Mended Bones
by Colorfully
Summary: A collection of one-shots, maybe a few multi-chapter stories. I will definitely include TanithxBilly-Ray, ChinaxSkulduggery, and maybe ValkyeriexSomeone. Not all stories will be romance. Rated T to be safe.
1. Billy and Tanith

**I am a huge fan of SP: the characters do not belong to me. The computer was a present from my dad, the characters are Derek Landy's, the story is my own. This story is under the premise that Tanith's Remnant is removed, Billy-Ray Sanguine changes his alliances, and Ghastly and Tanith were together. Notice my use of the word 'were', and enjoy!**

When they met, she hated him. Not seriously, but she didn't like him, either. He was a 'bad guy'. She didn't even consider it. She didn't know about his biting sense of humor. She didn't care about his looks, marred by two black holes where his eyes would be. She didn't bother to find about the hole in his heart that couldn't be filled by anyone but her.

When they met, he could tell she was something. Hard to kill, obviously. Pretty, also obvious. He didn't think of her as anything but a distraction, though. He'd never actually gotten anywhere with a girl who wasn't just a distraction.

She saw how he didn't want to hurt her, but mistook it for cowardice. She liked him a little less, and a little more every time they met.

He couldn't stop thinking about her. He left the pretty girls alone, finding excuses to go to Ireland. He told himself it was for work, or revenge, but really it was for her. All her.

She lost herself, buried by the Remnant – but she also found herself, a part of her she rejected, and tried not to think about. But even after the Remnant was gone, the part of her she'd discovered wasn't. The part of her that was madly in love with Billy-Ray Sanguine.

He noticed she was different. She actually looked happy to see him, on occasion. She stopped trying to kill him, and he stopped trying to kill her. He also tried to stop threatening the dark-haired brat. For her, he could deal with anything – he'd even give up drinking, and he wouldn't do that for the world. But then again, she was so much more than the world.

She had Ghastly, of course. He was kind and caring, sensitive and warm. But he didn't have the biting sarcasm, or the cowboy boots, or the sunglasses. He wasn't...

He saw how happy she was, and figured he should leave well enough alone. If he really loved her, he'd let her go, right? But he knew she wouldn't come back.

She caught him while he packed. By this time, they were friends. And she'd found she _liked_ insulting him and being insulted. Ghastly didn't do that. Besides, she loved magic. Ghastly just wanted to be 'normal', and she didn't.

She asked him why he was leaving, His excuses were pathetic, but when your heart is shattering, your excuses tend to be pathetic. That was the first time they kissed.

She told Ghastly, and he had no hard feelings. He said he didn't really expect it to go farther than friends anyway. And he never really liked Billy in the first place, so that was okay. 'What you see in that creepy Texan, I cannot fathom,' was all he had to say on the subject. But Billy also said something about an overgrown gorilla, so they were pretty even.

Tanith was beautiful. They say love is blind, but he knew Tanith was beautiful. She was all he could ever think about – no evil gods, no large sums of money to kill people, no 'mercenary deluxe'. Just him, and Tanith.

Billy-Ray Sanguine and Tanith Low. Forever.

**You may not like this pairing. I do, actually, and find Billy's wit irresistible. I will write a China-Skulduggery pairing that will follow this one. Because we all know Skulduggery and China-Skulduggery is perfect. Well, some of us. After that, I might write some more. Anyway, until then!**


	2. China and Skulduggery

**Ok, last time, I wrote a one-shot about Billy-Ray and Tanith, which some of you may find creepy. Well, now is a fairly normal China-Skulduggery one-shot. The characters don't belong to me, but the story's all mine. Don't copy it, or I may be forced to eat you(kidding!) Right, enjoy the angsty-ness!**

He was charming, kind – everything she wasn't. She was gorgeous, but cold. All men loved her, but no man could make her feel whole, complete. Except for him. He was the only man who could make her laugh, and it'd been so long since she laughed... She wished she'd never betrayed him the way she did.

He knew her past, everything about her. She was like a iceberg – pretty to look at, but with no colorful heart. He was wrong, though he denied ever being wrong about anything. And he swaers he was also wrong about not loving her.

Her face was the most beautiful, but if you looked closer, it was angular and sharp from years of isolation. Her family had not loved her, save her brother. She had no friends, save him. He was there for her. When others questioned her for her past, he accepted that her past was gone. There was only this for her now.

He trusted her more and more. She said she fought because it was convenient, but they both knew it was really for him. She even refrained from killing that annoying little protegee. Hey, It'd been heard of – girls with crushes on men twice their age. Who cares if he was a walking skeleton? He was so obviously much more than any man with the privilege of a body, with skin.

He was stuck in a hostile world. He was kept alive by his natural toughness, and by a few words. Tanith. Ghastly. Valkyrie. And China. Always China.

When he was gone, she cried. She didn't let anyone see, but every night she cried herself to sleep, praying to the powers that be for his safety. She thought of him always. How he would never again make her laugh. There would be no more laughter now. She gave up hope. She gave up everything.

He made it out, somehow. But he knew what had really kept him alive: her. He wanted to run to her, to hold her in his arms. He almost did, to. He had to content himself with an approximation of a skeleton smile.

When he came back, she didn't stop crying, but this time they were tears of elation. He was a constant now, always there for her.

He loved her, and was working up the guts to say so. He knew she'd laugh and turn away. Maybe crack a joke. She's try to make regection as easy as possible for him – she owed him that much. He never in a million years would have thought this would happen.

The words were simple, but coming from him, and in that particular order, they were a gift from the powers that be. Not only had they kept the center of her world alive, they had delivered him right into her arms. He was hers now.

China Sorrows and Skulduggery Pleasant. Forever.

**Sooooo, installment two. Any requests for different pairings? I fail at Fletcher, but I can try. Also if you guys want different format, instead of like a long cross between a poem and a story, tell me. Review!**


	3. Zephyr and Sev Part One

**Right, in the book 'Playing With Fire', there was a very brief cameo from two bodyguards known as Zephyr and Sev. They were hired by China Sorrows to protect her from a certain clinically insane Baron. They didn't survive, though China did. The idea for this story is not mine, it's the lovely ****Mademise Morte's. Thanks to her, and here is an pathetic attempt to make a story out of their 7-page appearance.**

They were the best. Until they died. This is their story.

Sev had an assignment. He wasn't a hit man, more like an anti-hit man. You hired him when someone was after you, someone who was good at what they did. Well, Sev was better. Much, much better.

This assignment was from a man. He had something that someone wanted. Maybe the owner had to be dead before you used it, maybe you couldn't steal it. It was none of Sev's business.

Apparently, he'd hired someone else too. Sev didn't like that. He worked better alone. Besides, no one was as good as he was.

The house was tall, thin, and crooked. It looked like someone had taken the top and pulled until it stretched. The closest house was a few miles away. No easy contact with the surrounding area: a prime target for an attack. This man really needed a bodyguard.

A small man with a mousy look rushed from the house, a look of utter relief on his face. Behind him walked a girl. She was petite, and moved with a walk like that of a dancer. "Oh, thank goodness you're here! I've spent the last few days in complete fear, I can't even come out of the house..." The man gave a nervous little laugh. A nut job, obviously... But hey, he paid well.

"Have you installed any protective measures?"

"Yes, there's a woman, China Sorrows..." The man's eyes took on a dreamy look. Sev had heard of the Sorrows woman, of course. She had some very... _special_ talents, like the ability to make anyone fall in love with her. Dangerous. What she could have done to install protective measures, who knew. Anyway, best to be on his guard.

"This is Zephyr, er, she'll be helping you... Zephyr, this is Sev..." The man laughed again. Definitely crazy.

"Pleasure. Right, yesterday Mr. Rodere received a threatening note. They writer, or writers of said note told him to be on his guard, because they were coming for him. To quote, 'We know you have it, and we will get it before the Summer Solstice.' Sev, Mr. Rodere, the Solstice is the day after tomorrow. Whatever it is that these people want, they will get it before then unless we stop them."

"I have my weapons. You have yours?"

"Yes."

"They'll try to get it tonight, so they have it for the Summer Solstice. Rodere, do you have any idea who these people are? I don't need to know what they want, but I need to know what these people are capable of."

Rodere gnawed on a lip. "Well, one of them _might_ be..."

Zephyr and Sev waited.

"Caesar Malignant."

No wonder Rodere was crazy.

**Right, rodent is a derivative of the word _rodere,_ which means 'to gnaw'. So that's where that name comes from. Caesar Malignant is all I could come up with for a bad-guy name. Guess this one's not going to be a one-shot after all... Any ideas, review!**


	4. Zephyr and Sev Part Two

**Last time, Rodere was being hunted by a certain Ceasar Malignant. Yes, the name sucks, but there's already been a Gruesome Krav, Nefarian(from nefarious) Serpine, a Baron Vengeous(from vengance), a Mevolent(from malevolent), and a Nocturnal and Carrion from a short story included in the back of the first book. So I didn't have a lot of options for bad-guy names. You know the drill: no recognizable characters, instances, and other stuff that Derek Landy thought up belongs to me. Story's all mine, though, so if you copy it I will... I will... feed you to a man-eating plant. Radishes!**

12:34 AM

Sev and Zephyr had been up all night. Rodere had fallen asleep on the couch shortly after stating he was too nervous to get any rest. The man snored, too: a sort of snuffling, snorting noise. It got incredibly annoying after a few hours. Sev wondered if he should have raised his fee a little more.

Zephyr was perched on the armrest of the large, brown couch by the wall of the bedroom. She sat unnervingly still, and Sev figured she hadn't blinked for at least an hour. He'd kept track of the time.

Truth be told, he was worried for Zephyr. He prided himself on being tough. He was large and very strong, and if they were going up against Caesar Malignant, someone so small and fragile as Zephyr would never make it through the night.

Sev sighed. Now he had two people to look out for. Neither seemed like they could hold their own against a grasshopper, let alone a psychopath like Malignant.

The wind whistled through the grass. Sev walked to the window and peered out. The slowly swaying stalks surrounding the tall, narrow house whispered. The stars shone coldly from the sky over the deserted dirt road. Sev noticed something was wrong.

A star had been there just a moment ago – it had dissapeared, as if something had moved over it. No one but Sev would have seen it. But Sev was good. Sev was the best.

He spun around, as Rodere jerked awake.

"He's coming."

Zephyr drew her gun out from underneath her sleek leather jacket. She'd originally viewed the large man, Sev, as strong but not very smart. At least he knew when something was coming. She had to give him credit, even she wouldn't have seen the attacker, or attackers, that early. Maybe he could do something other than stand there and look stupid.

Zephyr and Sev stood back to back. Zephyr trained her gun on the door, Sev on the window. Sev fired first.

A shadow that belonged to no one slunk through the window like it wasn't there. It encircled the room until all the walls were dark, it's sinister shape wriggling. Sev and Zephyr fired over and over, but the shadow couldn't be shot. Before long both guns ran out of bullets.

The shadow smiled with a mouth full of large, sharp teeth, and folded in on itself until there was a young blond man standing by the wall, in front of the door. Blocking the exit; Malignant knew what he was doing. "Mr. Rodere, get between us, away from the window," Zephyr said softly. Rodere scuttled between the two bodyguards. Years of practice had taught Zephyr never to yell at a person in a situation like this. They might freeze up, or break down in tears. Especially someone like Rodere.

Caesar Malignant smiled. His teeth were filed down to sharp points, giving his face a jack-o-lantern look. If not for those horrible teeth, he might have been vaugely good-looking. His eyes were a dark blue, and he looked to be in his very early teens. His real age was at least a hundred times that.

"Anders! Anders, dear friend, how wonderful to see you again! You don't call, you don't write... I hope you don't mind that I came to pay you a little visit? See how you've been?'" Malignant's voice was charismatic, inviting you to follow his word blindly, to trust in whatever he said. That impression was spoiled, though, by his gruesome teeth. Rodere whimpered, obviously scared out of whatever wits he had possessed in the first place. "And you brought some friends over! Could you be so kind as to introduce them?"

"Who are you working for?" Zephyr was pleased to see that her voice was steady, and that she sounded completely in control. In reality, her heart was hammering, and she was surprised she hadn't fallen over yet. Who knew what this thing was capable of?

"Oh, you haven't figured it out yet? A pretty lady such as yourself should always be at least as smart. Why, those poor Faceless Ones, trapped somewhere... Don't you think you'd be lonely if you were floating around in another dimension? I just want to bring them here so they can keep company with everyone else! Think how nice that would be..."

"First of all, if I was an evil god, I don't think I'd be very lonely. Second, I don't think it would be very nice at all to have said evil gods destroying the Earth as we know it. Now, I suggest you go back to whatever pit you crawled out of, before I'm forced to end your miserable existence. Understood?" Sev's face looked calm, which was good. The best warriors were'nt only those who had skill, and experience, but those who felt no anger. Anger made you reckless, and people who were reckless made mistakes.

Caesar Malignant laughed, and lunged.

**Definitely a multi-chapter story. I'll probably end it next chapter, though, and if not then, then the chapter after. I need ideas for one-shot's, and I need PM's or reviews for ideas! Anyway, thanks for reading. :)**


	5. Zephyr and Sev Final Chapter

**Update! I hear the sound of bells, and rejoicing reviewers! No, the sound of an angry mob come to feed me to a man-eating plant... Anyway. Before I am sacrificed to a man-eating plant, Malignant will come and try to kill Zephyr and Sev. You know they don't die, because they have to survive in order to be killed by Baron Crazy... I mean, Baron Vengeous. Sorry. My fingers slipped on the keyboard. Read, review, and if you don't like it you'll be carried off by my angry mob and then fed to a man-eating plant. Wait, no, apparently only I get that special treatment! Lucky me...**

Zephyr's hand darted into her coat, and flicked out like the head of a snake. Sev barely registered that she had a throwing knife in her hand when the knife embedded itself into Malignant's shoulder. He howled, an inhuman sound rendered even more terrifiying by the fact that it was coming out of the sharp-toothed mouth of what appeared to be a thirteen-year-old boy. The boy evaporated, becoming a shadow that plastered itself against the walls of the bedroom. The knife clattered to the floor, but the shadow on the wall had what looked like a new rip on it's surface. It opened it's mouth, revealing it's terrifying teeth, but the night air was silent. "Why isn't it attacking?" Zephyr was confused, but more than that she was scared. What if the creature had some new trick up it's sleeve? "I don't think it can attack from the wall," Sev said, sounding as bemused as she felt. "If we go to touch the wall, which I don't recommend, then I think it could probably kill us. Easily." The shadow gave another silent roar. "Well, in that case, there's only one thing we can do." Zephyr had a plan, one that would finish the monster. It would also finsih Rodere's house, too, but that was minor. Zephyr threw a fireball at the wall, grabbed Rodere, and jumped out the window.

Sev was impressed by Zephyr. Her knife had been perfectly aimed, and she was fast. Maybe she could take care of herself after all. And her plan was brilliant. Presumably, if the house burned while the shadow was still inside, the shadow would die. But that was still just a hunch.

Sev hit the ground hard and rolled to his feet. An anguised scream issued from the window of Rodere's bedroom, as flames streaked out of the broken glass, curling and flickering in the night air. A sliver of shadow leaped – really leaped – out of the broken window. It dragged itself across the ground, and became the boy.

Sev took another gun out of his jacket and shot the crawling figure.

Zephyr was weak. She'd hurt herself jumping out the window. Rodere was fine, but her leg felt as if it was filled with fiery-hot air. The scream had shattered her sanity, and the gunshot had exploded the pieces. Then, thankfully, came silence.

Sev walked over to her. "You're leg's hurt."

"I think I broke it, jumping out of that window." Rodere sniffled, and beamed at the two body guards. "Oh, you two have saved my life! You also burned down my house, but I'm a wealthy man, I can rebuild it... If there is ever anything I can do for you..." Rodere gave another nervous little laugh. It would have been cute if it wasn't so creepy. "Just the original amount will do." Sev sounded annoyed. Considering he had just jumped through the window of a house that was currently on fire, it was surprising that he was only annoyed. "We need to get Zephyr to a healer. You know, I've been thinking... How would you like to permanently go into business together?"

"Pay my hospital bill, and you've got yourself a deal.

**Sev and Zephyr, the unstoppable, amazing, wonderful and very interesting boyguard duo met an untimely and very sad demise in Chapter Thirty-Two of _Skulduggery Pleasant_ volume two, _Playing With Fire_. Sev died page 299, Zephyr page 304, of the American Edition, at the hands of Baron **cough crazy cough** Vengeous. Their appearance was seven pages long, yet their(very short) story has spawned several fanfics, like the one you are currently reading. May the unstoppable, amazing, wonderful, and very interesting pair rest in peace.**


	6. Dusk

**I have had an inspiration!**

**I was watching the sunset. Today it was a sort of mixture of blue, and orange, and purple, and indigo... And I decided to write a story about Dusk's tortured-ness. Don't ask me how I got inspiration to write a story about an evil vampire from a sunset, because I don't know. I'm going to just shush my face and write the story now.**

Dusk strolled along the streets of Dublin. He thought about the brat who had cut his face, and wondered where she was now. Not that it mattered to him, as long as she was dead, but he still wondered. She was probably at home, kissing her parents good night and walking up to her room. She'd no doubt eaten a nice meal, and told her family about her day.

Dusk wished he had a family.

It would be nice to have some parents who called him up every now and again. _'Hello dear, oh, how we've missed you!' 'Son, I think I found some information on that man with the sunglasses, Bobby whats-his-name... May be wrong though, you know how I am with names...' _Or a family, someone to kiss him and ask how his day was when he got home from a long night of killing people. _'Darling you're home! I love you...' 'Daddy, can we come and help you kill people tomorrow?' _I would be nice. Not that Dusk was insecure or anything. And he definitely wasn't lonely, not in a million years.

He wandered around the city, looking for someone to suck the blood out of. Drunks had a bad aftertaste, and drug addicts made him vomit. Which significantly narrowed down his selection, in this part of the city. He couldn't stop thinking about how he wanted a family, though. Even a friend would be nice. Someone who shared his love of murder and fine wines... He was a vampire, so he couldn't actually drink the wine, but that didn't mean he didn't like fine wines.

Dusk had actually tried to find a girlfriend several times, actually. Murder Rose was the only one he hadn't eaten. He did get horribly peckish at times...

The streets were getting emptier, but Dusk didn't mind. He wasn't really that hungry anyway. He was getting a little sad, thinking about how he had no friends. The Vengance Club, or whatever, had been nice, but he hated all the people in it. Dusk didn't hate everyone, though. He didn't hate the people he hadn't met yet. It just wasn't fair. Dusk was a little scary, and he had a tendency to kill people on sight, and there was the minor complication of him being a vampire, but once you got to know him he was a great guy. That Skeleton Detective had friends, and he was incredibly lame and not as handsome as Dusk. Sanguine had friends. He was very ugly, in Dusk's opinion, and not funny at all, and he had even managed to get a girlfriend, that Tanith Low person. What this Tanith saw in Sanguine that she didn't see in Dusk, Dusk didn't know. But she was a blonde, and obviously not very smart. China, or Porcelain, or whatever her name was was much prettier than Tanith. Maybe he should ask her out sometime... She might still be a little mad about that time when he helped Vengeous try to capture and torture her, but she seemed like a reasonable and mature girl. Surely she was over that by now. Yes, if he remembered correctly that China was very pretty. But how was he to go about asking her on a date? And she would probably be at least a little angry over when he had tried to capture her... And the other half-a-dozen times he had tried to kill her. Dusk wasn't very tactful sometimes. He should pay more attention to future dating prospects when he went about killing people. But Dusk wasn't lonely at all, of course not.

Dusk sighed.

**A little OOC? Completely fail? Averagely good? Tell me in the reviews. Also post pairings and such that you think I should write about, as I am completely lost without you people. :) Much thanks to Mademise Morte for the many reviews. :) Radishes! By the way, Dusk is completely wrong as far as Sanguine's attractiveness goes, not to mention his sense of humor. **looks off into the distance and gives fangirly sigh** Anyway, thanks for reading!**


	7. Valkyrie and Fletcher

**The long awaited Fletcherie. I'll probably do a Caelan one after this, but after that...**

Fletcher was being annoying again.

Of course, he was always annoying, but... He was being more annoying than usual. It was a chilly fall day, and Valkyrie really didn't want to be standing on top of a windy roof over Dublin, having this conversation. Again.

"Are you _sure_ you aren't secretly dating Caelan?"

"I think I would know whether or not I was secretly dating Caelan, Fletcher. No."

"_Really?_"

Valkyrie threw her hands in the air, on the verge of jumping off the roof she was currently standing on. A very jealous-looking Fletcher Renn stood right behind her. You know, she thought, maybe I should just push him off the building, instead of jumping off of it myself. Fletcher didn't seem to notice her contemplation of murder/suicide, and plowed blindly onward.

"But I know he likes you, I know he does, and, you know..."

"No, I don't know, Fletcher. Please enlighten me." Valkyrie noticed how angry her sarcastic comment had sounded.

"He's a vampire, for Pete's sake! I feel like that werewolf from that stupid girly fandom..." Valkyrie groaned. She hated that fandom, Dimlight, or Twilight, or whatever, and disliked the fact that the main character couldn't seem to take care of herself. She imagined Dusk or Caelan sparkling, and couldn't suppress a giggle.

"Have you ever imagined Dusk sparkling?"

"Right, so you're secretly dating the _other_ vampire. Thanks muchly, I feel waaay better now, Val."

"Next you'll be accusing me of secretly dating the Torment. I'm _not dating anyone but you, Fletcher._"

"But how do I know that?" A new tone of desperation touched his voice. Valkyrie couldn't help turning around, and saw his eyes glistening with unshed tears. Fletcher looked down, hiding his face.

"I love you, Val. I don't want you stolen by some vampire."

"He's not just 'some vampire', he's my friend."

"Like I said, I have no way of knowing that."

"You have to trust me, Fletcher."

"It's him I don't trust. He's what, five-hundred years old? He's got way more practice at acting charming and pretending to be noble than any douchebag off the street. I wanna protect you." Val grabbed Fletcher and hugged him.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

A figure stood on a roof on the other side of the street, watching their embrace. A heartbeat later, the figure leaped off the roof. Caelan hugged his coat closer and set off down the street.

**Guys, I'm fresh out of ideas. Fresh. Out. I need inspiration! Please review, or the endless stream of one-shots will stop. Suddenly. Review!**


	8. Caelan

**Reviews! Reviews! Without them, I would shrivel up into a small ball of insecurity and loneliness. So, Fletcher and Val are popular, huh? Well, duh. I am contemplating a third installment... I also got a Scapegrace request. Scapegrace is like no other villian. You feel sorry for him, and he's more adorable than scary. Maybe I'll do that one next... Virtual milk and cookies to Mademise Morte, may you live long and never be harrased by a man-eating plant. Or sacrificed to a long-slumbering god to awaken a new era of terror and destruction. You know, the usual. **

**In case you haven't guessed yet, William Raymond Sanguine, hit man deluxe, is my favorite character. AWESOMENESS. IN. TEXAN. FORM. A story about a fellow Southerner is also on my agenda. But for now, here is a Caelan story, directly following the Fletcherie one.**

Caelan walked briskly down the street, the cold wind biting him through his coat. He'd heard the exchange from across the street, and was heading as far away as possible. Val should be his. She would be, if it weren't for that stupid, arrogant Teleporter. Sometimes Caelan wondered if things would be easier for the world if her just killed the stupid boy. But no. He couldn't have thoughts like that – he had to stay human, for Val.

At some point in his unfairly long life, he had contemplated just giving up. Getting it over with. Showing the world what a monster he was. Just stopping the struggle, let the bloodlust overwhelm him. But he didn't want to be like Dusk and the others. He really hated Dusk, and if anything, he wanted to rub it in his nose that Caelan could control himself, when Dusk couldn't. Problem being, Dusk couldn't care less. And he had the serum, so so much for that idea... Besides, he needed to be human for Val.

Val was the only person who didn't view him as just 'some vampire'.

That was one of the things that had stung him the most, when the boy had called him 'some vampire'. It made Caelan proud to know that Valkyrie had stuck up for him, telling the annoying child that Caelan was her friend. He couldn't resist a smile. The boy was right to be nervous. The first chance he got, Caelan would spirit Val out of that idiot's arms, and far, far away.

Caelan stopped walking and looked down at his hands, turning them over and examining them closely. They looked human. Essentially, they _were_ human, until nightfall, that is... Then they became the claws of a hideous monster. Which is what he was. A hideous monster, with the skin of a harmless boy during the day. The monster revealed itself only at night. Caelan would do anything to be human, to be with Val. That would never be possible, though. The hopelessness came in a wave, washing over him. What was the point? Killing the boy would do nothing, he could never be with Val. Who was he kidding? He was a vampire! Nothing but an animal! Val's face filled his mind, it's beauty clouding his mind for a second. He remembered how she'd kissed him, the way her heart sped up whenever she looked at him. She could deny her feelings, but her heart thudded louder and louder each time, screaming her true feelings at him. She'd stuck up for him, hadn't she? Caelan still had a chance. And as long as he was in the running, he wouldn't give up.

A smile spread slowly across the vampire's face. In some ways, he was as arrogant as the Teleporter boy.

**I wrote all of that listening to nothing – nothing, I tell you! – but the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Review, tell me what you people's favorite bands are. And, of course, what you would like to see next. You guys are the only thing between me and a fate as a shriveled ball of insecurity, remember that! You are saving a poor girl from a life of being shriveled.**


	9. Scapegrace

**Reviews! You have no idea how bright my smile is after sitting at my laptop and seeing four new reviews... My computer was just about incinerated. **

**Anyway, the lovely Mademise is still awesomeness(looked up Emilie Autumn, by the way. Cool.). Windstalker, CoffeeQueen, NerdySkeleton, kaletra, thanks, may you live long and happy and have, like, fifty kids. Unless you don't like kids.**

**Firelle Nym, I haven't mentioned you yet cuz I got the idea for this one from you. I just can't imagine Scapegrace in a romance with anyone at all, so I decided to write one about him and how he was never recognized for the artist he really is inside. **cue dramatic background music** This is set at no particular time or book, but is just randomly floating around. Or something. **

Vaurien Scapegrace. A nice name, granted, but not one that was whispered in fear at crossroads and war councils. They thought that Sanguine person was a threat. Springheeled Jack, Dusk, all were on the Irish Sanctuary's wanted list. Vaurien Scapegrace? Not a chance.

It would have been nice to be seen as a threat, but even nicer to have a friend. You know, someone who understood that all you wanted was a little recognition. Just a little nod from society, that was all he asked. Not that he got a nod. He didn't even get a blink. Not even a twitch from a soul! That girl, the one who worked with the Skeleton, she didn't realize how dangerous and brilliant Scapegrace was. If she did, she would have run the first time she'd seen him. Instead she'd beat him up. The little girl wasn't even intimidated – no one was. It just wasn't fair.

Scapegrace was, above all things, an artist. He lived for his art, which he created by killing people. Not that he had actually killed anyone yet. But there's a first for everything, right? Being a zombie, even.

Scapegrace wandered along the streets of Dublin, sighing and feeling very sorry for himself. What did the great Spaghetti Monster in the sky have against him? It was like it had created him purely to make fun of. Ever since he had run into Valkyrie Cain, things had been going from bad to worse...

Scapegrace turned his face to the sky. Whoever was out there, could they please write the book of his life a nicer ending? But no, the people reading would be enjoying this too much.

**He knows too much...**

**Anyway, this one is short because I am out of ideas. IDEAS, PEOPLE, IDEAS!**

**Thank you.**


	10. Nye

**I love painting villains in a favorable light. It is my deep belief that even the sickest, most twisted freaks have a shred of humanity deep inside them. And who is sicker and more twisted than good Doctor Nye himself?**

**When Kenspeckle died, I cried. I literally cried. There a tearstains on the page where Clarabelle is seen slicing Kenspeckle to bits. But now that our happy little troupe is in need of a doctor, I think that with a little reform Nye would be the perfect candidate. The rest of the troupe is as dark, in some ways, as Nye. So why not?**

Nye hummed quietly. It was happy, for once. Something exciting had happened. Of course, it's leg had been neatly snapped in 12 places, and fragmented twice, but it was worth it. The girl was quite interesting.

The girl had been dark-haired. She was one of the few that came in looking freshly deceased. Her eyes had looked just a little sunken, and her skin was pale with a purplish tinge, but she was still beautiful. Spunky, too. She hadn't been completely unconscious and uncaring like some of the other corpses Nye dealt with. She had been at least semi-conscious, and Nye only discovered later that she had used the scalpel to cut through the straps binding her to the operating table. Inventive, resourceful – the list went on and on. So young, too. She'd do great things, she really would.

When she'd first escaped, Nye had been angry. Furious. Positively enraged. But then, she'd broken its leg, and Nye had been forced to sew her all up again. So brave, and stubborn! Nye had no doubt that if it found where the soul was located, hers would glow. Or sparkle. Or do something that was equal parts abnormal and admirable.

Nye worked alone, as a rule. No one but Nye had the stomach, the skill, and the lack of conscience to do what it did. But that girl had the stomach; she consciously watched herself being sliced to pieces. She had power, too; she'd attacked Nye with Necromancy, while she was dead! Truly remarkable. What wasn't widely known was that when someone's heart was taken out, when science-magic was applied in matters concerning the soul, was that if you looked right, you could get a look right into your vitci- cough, patient's inner nature. That girl, the dark-haired girl had a ruthless nature. She'd broken its leg without a second thought. Of course, her parents had been surprisingly good to her, raising her right. Nye took a second to think about its parents. Oh, it couldn't remember if it even _had_ parents. Right.

Nye set down the scalpel it was holding from the latest dissection. It was terribly lonely in here, all alone, with only dead people and medical tools for company. Maybe it was time for Nye to take on an apprentice. Nye could make a few calls; it was scary enough to get what it wanted. He would find this girl. He would find her and pass on the knowledge he had acquired through years of trial and error. How many years? Nye couldn't remember. But now, now it'd have memories worth keeping. Memories of happy times dissecting things with a friend... What a nice word. Friend.

The whole reason Nye wanted to find the soul was because it was fairly certain it had no soul. If it couldn't have a soul, couldn't take pleasure in normal things, but loved dissection and blood, then why should anyone else me afforded the luxury of normality? But maybe Nye did have a soul after all. Maybe it could be... happy.

Nye walked to the phone.

**Review with ideas. Nye is one of my favorite characters, by the way. B-R SANGUINE! being the exception, of course. I love villains, don't you? No? Well, review anyway.**


	11. Billy and Tanith, Again

Her face was the most beautiful thing on the face of the planet. The nose was small and turned up just a little. The lips were full, and a soft, kissable pink. But all of these lovely features paled in comparison to her eyes. Large, green, with long, soft lashes. He fancied he could even see little flecks of gold in those gorgeous eyes. The eyebrows were softly arched, one raised just a little, giving her face the look of someone who knew just how awe-inspiring she was. Her hair flowed in luxurious waves down either side of her face, the part a little to the left. The gold-bronze locks flowed like a river down and across her face, buffeted by the wind. Her neck was long and slender, the collarbones prominent. Her shoulders were strong, her body curvaceous...

"Hi? Billy? Anyone home in there?"

"Huh?"

**Oh, Billy... You really shouldn't stare at Tanith like that, you know. Very short, because I have nothing else to write about.**


	12. China and Skulduggery, Again

No one really knew how hard it was for China to get ready in the morning. Of course, she was naturally beautiful, and gorgeous without makeup, but it didn't hurt to make a good thing better, did it? Especially when Skulduggery was around. Then, it didn't hurt _at all_.

So when she got the phone call from Skulduggery at about 3 in the morning, she flew out of bed. Shower, dress, um, that black one will be fine for now, makeupmakeupmakeup, alright, I look presentable – this was the way China's thoughts flowed. By the time the the Bentley pulled up in front of the tenement building where China lived, China was busy combing her hair for about the fifteenth time. While Skulduggery was climbing the stairs, China was doing a final makeup-check. By the time Skulduggery was standing at her library door, China was waiting serenely in the center of a group of bookshelves that she had arranged to make put her in the most flattering light possible. As soon as Skulduggery strode into the small corner of unoccupied space China had created, his facade went slack. China became all motherly concern. "Skulduggery, is there something wrong with your facade? Oh, I must have been off by a half a millimeter again..." Skulduggery shook his head quickly, as if clearing it. "No, no, it's not that..."

"Well, what is it?"

"..."

"Skulduggery, if my makeup is smeared, you _should_ do me the favor of just telling me."

"No, your makeup is... lovely, China. Anyway, what I came to see you about. I fou-"

"Stop trying to change the subject. Why were you all dazed about a second ago?"

"-nd a rare book that I thought you might be interested in..." China felt something deep inside her stir. When was the last time Skulduggery had come to her with a book? China couldn't remember.

"You look speechless." Skulduggery looked tremendously pleased with himself. Well, it was only a book, no big deal, probably mass-produced, a forgery, something, and he'd make her pay an astounding amount for it, not doubt... Wave after wave of cold logic assailing her, China recovered her composure and did away with the spark of hope that had flared in her chest.

"How much do you want for it?"

"Well, considering it's a one of a kind, authentic, priceless piece with unimaginable power..."

"Over six figures, then."

"...I'll give it to you."

"_What?_"

"I'll give it to you. Consider it a gift from... a close friend."

"Wait, exactly which book are you offering?" Skulduggery passed her the book. The leather cover was worn, etched with gold symbols only China and a select few could read. The invisible symbols inscribed on China's body practically shivered with all the raw power. China leafed through the book. Skulduggery had been right. This was a book penned eons ago, chock-full of eldritch power, spells that could turn enemies to dust, spells that could create do just about anything, and a good deal of spells China herself could perform with the aid of her symbols...

"I had to give my right leg for it." Skulduggery's voice shook China from her reverie.

"Skulduggery, this book is probably the biggest academic discovery of the last eight centuries."

"I had to give my right leg to the guy who had it. He wanted the right leg of a living skeleton, as a sort of novelty. He was hoping it would still move if it was detached from the rest of me."

"_Excuse me?_"

"I stole it back, of course."

"You're giving me a priceless book you gave your right leg for?"

"I stole it back..."

"So?"

"Well... Take it as a token of my affections."

"Skulduggery, I think my hearing is going. First you say you'll give me this incredible book I've been hunting my entire life, and now you say you actually hold any _affection_ for me?"

"I didn't say _that_. I merely said take it as a token of my _affections_."  
"You are so odd sometimes, Skulduggery."

"That's why you love me."

"True, true."

Time stood still. China gazed into his eyes. They were green today. A bright emerald green. It wasn't their color, though, but the intelligence, and – could it be? – love that came from those green eyes. China took a step closer. "Skulduggery, I-"

"What're you two doing?" China had never hated Tanith Low more than she did at that second.

**I enjoyed writing this, I really did. I'm on China's side on this one... **

**Anyway, I changed my pen-name. Demon Bunnyrabbit... I like it, do you? Review/PM me and tell me.**


	13. Marr

**I got a request for a Davina Marr one, but had no idea what to write. I guess this explains why she's so cold...?**

Davina sat in front of her mirror, looking at the photograph. There he was, as beautiful as the day she had met him. Raven-black hair, laughing eyes... Davina closed her eyes, trying to stop the tears leaking from them. If only she'd come with him...

…

It had been cold out, and Davina was visiting New York to see her boyfriend. He'd proposed the night before, in her hotel, and he'd spent the night there. She'd said goodbye to him and his laughing eyes the next morning, and had sat and waited for the business at the Sanctuary to be done. They'd been sending aid to Ireland at the time, and he was helping. Davina remembered sitting, waiting for him to come home. 7:00 AM had become 8:00, 8:00 turning into 9:00. Davina had merely waited. It'd been a while when she got the call; he and one associate were both dead. They'd been found a mere few steps from their car. Their killer was unknown.

Davina had spent the night crying. She needed escape. There was no reason to stay here, not without him. She felt as if a chunk of her had been cut out, somewhere by her gut. For then next 3 days, Davina had merely lain on the bed and wept.

Davina was offered a job with the Irish Sanctuary; she took it. Anything, absolutely anything was what she would give to escape the States. Here was where he died. He died and she did nothing.

Davina hated Ireland. The US was where she belonged, not here. Not in wet, dreary, unpleasant Ireland, where everyone hated her and she had no memories but bad ones. She wanted to go home. But home reminded her of _him_...

Davina slowly changed. She could catch herself doing things she never would have done while _he_ was alive. She never would have smacked that Cain girl. She never would have stopped the group of vigilantes from saving the stupid skeleton. Heck, she probably would have helped. But why did Cain and Sorrows deserve to retrieve the man they both loved, when Davina had lost her love forever? There was no Isthmus Anchor to the realm of Death. He was gone.

Davina saw herself doing things purely out of spite. She killed people. This murderess was not the girl who had loved him. Sometimes, she would stop and think. If he came back, would he still love her? Did she still deserve his love?

Did it matter? She was alone. She would live alone, and she would die alone. Alone, without him.

**Page 238, Chapter 25. _Playing With Fire_, the American edition. 2 bussinessmen/sorcerers were killed by a man who wasn't there. One of my favorite parts of the whole book. This one-shot is under the assumption that one of those two bussinessmen/sorcerers was engaged to our good friend (ha), Davina Marr. I wanted to write a Marr, but had no inspiration, so read all 5 books over again and saw the fateful PAGE 23. Hope you liked it!**


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